


blank slate

by septembereyes (Ultraviolet_Skies)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Multi, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29733435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ultraviolet_Skies/pseuds/septembereyes
Summary: sometimes, a move can be a fresh start. as diplomats, your parents had a tendency to move around a lot. lucky for you, france was the last station the metaphorical train was stopping at before you left for college. you'd never really had the time, nor the will, to make friends or any lasting connections in the places you'd moved to. how could you, anyway, knowing you'd leave in two years every time? but maybe, just maybe, some people with some perseverance can change your mind.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Reader, Luka Couffaine/Reader, Luka x reader, adrien x reader
Kudos: 17





	blank slate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all. so i have absolutely no self control and decided to start yet ANOTHER series. hope you like. i made the reader have a bit more personality this time. i hope it's not too far off from your own personality. i just got a bit tired myself of reading reader fics where the reader is super uwu senpai blushy and i wanted to write someone with a bit more of a backbone. but i tried to make their interests more general, and gender neutral as well! i might just write separate chapters for sex scenes, that is if i do decide to write those scenes in. anyway, enjoy. have no idea when i'll be updating, i'm just along for the ride.

Chapter 1: Reminiscence

You trudged outside, guitar slung over your shoulder. 

You’d been forced outside by your mother… again. 

Seems like some things didn’t change, even when an overseas move was involved. 

To your relief, you found an unoccupied park bench in the mostly empty park. Settling down, you took your guitar out of its case and began to play. 

_“My hands are searching for you_

_My arms are outstretched towards you_

_I feel you on my fingertips_

_My tongue dances behind my lips for you…”_

You continued playing, fingers dancing across the strings and your voice ringing out clearly. A couple of pigeons hooted softly. 

_“This fire rising through my being_

_Burning I’m not used to seeing you_

_I’m alive_

_I’m alive”_

A couple people turned their heads to look at you, but you were too involved in your guitar to notice. 

_“I can feel you all around me_

_Thickening the air I’m breathing_

_Holding onto what I’m feeling_

_Savoring this heart that’s healing”_

“Flyleaf, huh?”

“Gah!”

You hit your back on the hard park bench with a resounding _thump_.

_Fuck, that really hurt._

“Oh my gosh, are you alright?”

Looking up you saw two pairs of deep blue eyes. 

“Yes, I’m fine,” you retorted curtly, a bit more sharp than you would’ve liked. 

You rubbed your back, the point of impact pulsing violently in your hand. 

“Can I?”

You regarded the boy now sitting next to you with narrowed eyes. 

Your guitar was your baby. The only thing you’d been able to keep with you consistently, move after move. And yet…

“Sure,” you sighed, handing it over. 

The boy strummed softly, but the resounding melody was unlike anything you’d ever heard. A clear, yet hesitant theme began to make itself clear within the song. And then a harsh interruption came, as his fingers tangled in the strings. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “that’s weird.”

“What’s weird?” you asked, leaning back with your hands propped up behind your head.

“I can’t really get a read on your song.”

“My… song?”

“Yes. Everyone has a song.”

You stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. 

“Everyone has a melody, some sort of song that their heart plays. But… I can’t really get a read on yours. On you.”

_What… is this man talking about…?_

“Mm… Okay then,” you said, rising to your feet and brushing imaginary dust off your jeans. 

“Well if you’ll excuse me, I… I have to go,” you said resolutely, fighting the random blush that was making its way onto your cheeks. 

“Aww,” he cooed softly, “well, I would’ve liked to get to know you a little more.”

_Not helping the blush._

“I’m Luka, by the way. Probably should’ve mentioned that earlier,” he said with a chuckle. 

“Y/N,” you said shortly, and then walked as fast as you could out of the park. 

“Hope to see you around!” he shouted. 

No answer. 

Not that you didn’t want to give one, but...

-

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

You looked up from your sketchbook, pencil dangling lazily from your grip. 

“Are you ready for school tomorrow?”

You gnawed on the inside of your cheeks, worrying the skin a little. 

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You’ve been so quiet lately, are you sure you’re alright?”

You nodded, and shut your sketchbook closed. Your pencil clattered onto the floor, rolling under the refrigerator faster than you could retrieve it. 

“Damn…”

“No cussing!”

“Sorry, Mom…”

You abandoned your pencil and headed upstairs, deciding you’d retrieve it tomorrow. Or maybe the day after that. Maybe never. Hell, you couldn’t bring yourself to care about your studies, let alone a stupid pencil.

Speaking of studies…

You propped open your door, plopping into your favorite chair and booting up your laptop. Your fingers found the keys and you almost hit the ‘enter’ button, but…

_No. It’s best that I don’t know. I need some fresh air anyway... I’ll find out whatever I need to about this school tomorrow._

With that thought percolating in your mind, you went upstairs onto your rooftop.

-

Looking around, you sighed. 

It was a beautiful night, of course. Paris was supposed to be one of the most romantic cities in the world, after all. But what good is a city of romance if the people living in it don’t believe in love?

You continued to flip your pen in between your fingers, back and forth, back and forth. Something in the distance leapt from rooftop to rooftop, gaining speed as it went. 

_What the hell…_

The figure went faster and faster, and it seemed to be rapidly approaching your direction. 

Your eyes widened as you stood there, paralyzed. 

_What…?_

You were quite familiar with the occult, supernatural creatures, and anything to do with the metaphysical. But you hadn’t come across anything in your research that mentioned flying black objects in the North of France. 

_What the hell have my parents gotten us into…_

You scrambled down the trap door, pulling it shut behind you and locking it. You were surprised to have regained any sense of mobility in your body. And just in time, too. You had no idea what could have possibly been coming for you at midnight, but it couldn’t have been good. 

You decided to finally get to bed, though your overactive heart and racing mind kept you awake for the majority of the night. 

-

“That’s the agenda for today, class! Oh, and one more thing. Please welcome our new student, Y/N!”

You forced yourself out of your seat and onto the stairs, doing your best not to trip and fall. Maybe you would’ve succeeded too, if not for a single white flat that sent you careening off of the edge and flat on your face. 

“Aww…”

You tried not to groan, feeling the blood rush instantly to your head and failing. 

“Dupain-Cheng! Why did you trip them?”

Your gaze wandered over to a girl with blue hair, flushed red with the accusation. 

“Mm Bustier, it wasn’t me!”

“Marinette…”

“You have to believe me!”

The teacher sighed, looking down at you with obvious concern in her eyes. 

“Adrien, take them to the nurse.”

“Yes, Mm Bustier.”

A blonde boy extended his hand to you, his face a mixture of curiosity and concern. 

“Are you alright?” He asked as he escorted you out of the classroom. 

“Yeah…” you mumbled, cheek still sore from slamming so hard into the ground. 

“Chloe really did a number on you…”

“Chloe? But I thought her name was Marinette.”

Adrien frowned. “ Marinette didn’t trip you, Chloe did.”

Your eyes narrowed. 

“Look, Marinette doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. Chloe…”

“I see.”

“What’s your name, by the way? I’m Adrien,” he smiled brightly. 

“You forgot my name already, huh?”

The words rolled off your tongue before you could stop them. 

The boy looked at you for a moment before looking away and blushing. Hard. 

“I’m sorry, I’m new here too. Actually, today marks my first month ever being at school! So it’s kind of hard for me to remember all these names…” He trailed off. 

A twinge of guilt forced the next words out of you.

“Nah, I was being an asshole. I’m sorry. Let’s start over?”

He smiled again.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Adrien Agreste.”

“Nice to meet you, Adrien.”

The bell rang, a shrill reminder that you had a lot to adjust to in this new school. Like… Adrien. And the fact that school periods seemed to last an absurdly short amount of time. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry Adrien. You gotta get to your next class.”

“No worries, Y/N. See you around.”

You watched him walk off, your head still cloudy. Though it was unclear at that point whether the fogginess was from the fall… or from… 

No, that wasn’t possible. 

You wouldn’t allow it to be possible. 

-

“I am Incinerator!”

The students in the room screamed, all running away in different directions.

_What the hell is wrong with this city? Maybe I should’ve done some research when I had the chance..._

You forced your limbs into motion, following your fellow classmates toward the open-air area of the school.

“Not so fast, little butterfly!”

_Butterfly…?_

You screamed in agony, flames licking your clothes and soon ravaging your skin. The heat was indescribable-- all encompassing and totally consuming. You’d been near the heat of a campfire before, but that was warm and enticing. Even a grease fire was less intense-- with the rage and spittle of hot oil jumping out and biting your skin. But those two incidents were nothing compared to the red hot pain that took your breath away, transforming your body into an immobile husk.

You fell to your knees, your body aching to its core. You felt a tear dribble out of your eye, before the heat from your skin turned it into steam in an instant.

_Is this how I’m going to die…?_

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

And then in an instant, the pain was gone.

You looked up in dumb disbelief, your hands shaking. 

All around you, people who should’ve been burnt to a crisp were getting to their knees as if nothing had happened. Some of them were even cheerful, congratulating themselves on getting through another _akuma_ attack--

What the hell was an akuma?

“Class is over early, today, children. Go home.”

You sat there for longer than you should have, still in shock.

“Oh, your parents didn’t brief you on akumas? I’m so sorry, dear…”

Mm Bustier’s voice should have been comforting, but it was a dull reminder that you didn’t belong here, in this strange new city. You were new to all of this-- not just French, or a brand new culture, or a different school-- no. You were a fish trying to live on land, knowing damn well that they belonged in the water.

“I’ll have someone walk you home, dear.”

-

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

You looked to your left, seeing the blue-haired boy out of breath beside you. Clearly Mm Bustier _had_ sent someone for you after all, despite your reassurance that you didn’t need anyone to come with you, you were perfectly fine on your own. But she knew better.

_Luka._

That was the boy’s name. How could you forget? After all, he was the weird one who wanted to borrow your guitar. And said something about _your song..._

“I’m fine.”

Your voice came out much more coldly than you’d expected it to.

_Damn. I’ll need to work on that._

Luka granted you a moment of silence. “I understand.”

“When the akuma attacks first started happening, I was scared. Terrified, actually. I didn’t know what might happen to my mom or my sister,” he said, twisting and turning the ring on his finger. “Of course, we all now know that Ladybug and Chat Noir will save the day. But,” he turned to you with a smile, “that doesn’t change how scary or painful they can be.”

You hummed in acknowledgment.

“Well, this is my stop,” you said, moving to go inside. The conversation had dragged on a little too long for your taste.

“Wait, Y/N,” Luka said, hand on your shoulder. “I want you to know, I’ll always be there if you need someone to call.”

_He has my number…?_

“My mom knows your mom, actually,” he trailed off with a sheepish grin, “anyway, that’s not important. Point is, you’re actually not that far from the Seine. I could actually just drop by-”

“Thank you, Luka,” you interrupted, and went inside before he could see the warmth in your eyes.

-

“So, how was your first day of school, honey?”

“Fine,” you droned. You didn’t fail to notice the lack of a reply.

_Typical._

Your parents stared at the flat screen TV, eyes glued on the moving pixels. 

You’d never really understood the appeal of TV. Mindless drivel, recited over and over in slightly different formats each time. You’d much prefer a book, or a good walk instead.

_Speaking of walks…_

You went upstairs, opening the door to…

“Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my room?”

“I’m what the cat dragged in…?”

“Mo-!”

“Shh!” he hissed. “Are you crazy?”

You smirked beneath the latex glove covering your mouth.

“Maybe.”

The thing in black glared at you beneath its mask.

“So what are you? Some kind of mammal thing? A cosplayer?”

“For the love of-- Do you really not know who I am?”

You shrugged. “Beats me.”

“Well, m’lady-”

_Pulling out the neckbeard charm, are we?_

“-the name’s Chat Noir.”

He could see the cogs slowly begin to turn in your head, and then come to a shuddering halt.

“The superhero… the guy who saves Paris with Ladybug?”

“Oh, yeah! You’re that guy all the girls talk about during class!” You hummed, resting your chin on your hand. “So then what are you doing here?”

“I… saw what happened to you today.”

_Oh._

“I felt so bad. I knew you were new, but of all the akumas to experience on your first day…”

_Wait._

“How do you know I’m new? Scratch that, how do you know who I am, let alone where I live?”

_He must be a student at our school. Or some kind of faculty, maybe…? He doesn’t look that old, though._

He let out a nervous laugh, “Well, I uh… you see, there are a lot of peopletalkingaboutyousoihadtodropbyandmakesureyouwereok but I’ll be going now!”

He turned around, about to fly through your trapdoor and scamper off into the Parisian night.

“Wait… you can stay, if you’d like.”

The statement seemed to surprise both of you.

“I could use the company,” you rubbed the back of your head.

The cat-man-thing, or rather, _Cat Noir_ , smiled at you and sat cross-legged on your floor.

“Well, then let’s play a little game of get to know me.”


End file.
